The library was nearly empty, the air thick with the quiet hum of concentration. the only sounds were the occasional rustle of pages, the soft scratch of pens against paper, and the distant hum of an ancient air conditioner struggling to do its job.

Carter sat across from you, posture annoyingly perfect, notes spread out in a way that looked straight out of an academic commercial. Highlighters were lined up by color, his textbook was open to exactly the right page, and his handwriting was so neat it was almost offensive.

Yours, on the other hand, looked like the aftermath of a battle. Loose papers shoved into the wrong sections, a coffee stain from earlier in the week, and a broken pencil you hadn’t bothered to replace.

You stared at your notes, then at his, then back at yours, feeling something close to defeat.

Your head hit the table with a dull thud. Carter barely reacted, just flipping a page in his book like this was completely expected behavior from you.

He didn’t even look up as he nudged your textbook closer, an obvious sign that giving up wasn’t an option.

His side of the table looked like a productivity dream. Yours looked like it belonged to someone who had already accepted failure.

You weren’t sure how much longer you could stare at the same page before your brain fully shut down. Studying wasn’t supposed to be this painful.

Carter finally sighed, pulling off his glasses to rub his temple. there was a slight crease between his brows, the only real sign that your struggle was starting to wear on him too.

“You have to pass your chemistry test.” he sighed, “Here. I’ll take you out to whatever food vendors you want for a week if you get a B or higher.”